Sweet Dreams
by TVaficianada
Summary: My Reela take on events following finale.  Spoilers for end of season 13.  Some family relationships may be AU or fan universe.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer: All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

Ray Barnett was lying awake staring at the ceiling. The moment had a feeling of total unreality to it. He couldn't believe he was back in his childhood bedroom. He couldn't believe he'd lost both his legs. _Damn her_. Oh, he supposed in a more rational state he'd be hard pressed to state exactly how it had been Neela's fault. He had been pathetically checking her message in the middle of the road, but, really, if he hadn't been so drunk would he have done that? Then again, if he hadn't seen her with Gates when he (once again) believed he had a chance with her, maybe he wouldn't have been so drunk. So, yes, _God damn her straight to hell. _

He heard the phone ring. He assumed it was another of his mother's friends checking that they had gotten home all right; seeing if there was anything they needed. He expected the next couple weeks were going to be a full blown nightmare parade of sympathetic old ladies. He almost wished he had decided to gut it out and do his rehabilitation at County's clinic. Almost.

"I'm sorry; he's sleeping. He's had a tough day."

It was someone calling for him, then. Who could that be? There were only a handful of people who knew. For a moment, his heart started beating faster at the thought that it might be Neela keeping in touch _like she promised? _He pushed the thought away; he swore she had disappointed him for the last time.

"Well, I'll check but if he's sleeping I am not going to wake him. Can't you just leave me a message? I'll be sure he gets it first thing in the morning." He could hear his mother coming down the hall and his door slowly opened just a bit. He considered feigning sleep, but now he was curious.

"I'm awake, Mom. Who is it?"

His mother sounded mildly annoyed. "It's Abby Lockhart and she insists it's an emergency."

He wanted to say he wasn't on call, wasn't ever going to be on call again, but he felt the prickling of fear. He knew he'd never sleep now until he heard the news Abby thought was important enough to track him down to deliver.

To his mother he said, "I'll talk to her. Thanks." He took the handset and he said to Abby, none too gently: "What is it?"

"Ray, have you heard the news?" Abby sounded strange; subdued even for Abby.

"I've been on a plane most of the afternoon and evening, Abby. I haven't heard any news. Why don't you just tell me why you called and how you got this number?"

"Look, Ray, I don't know what's going on with you or why you're in Louisiana. Katey told me you were at your mother's when I asked. I'm sorry if this is really bad timing, but I think you'd better come back to Chicago as soon as you can. It's Neela."

He felt a superstitious fear that his earlier cursing was involved somehow. Oh, God, he didn't mean it. "Abby, talk to me. Start at the beginning. What's the matter with Neela?"

"She was at the anti-war rally. The one where the crowd panicked. She fell; she got trampled. She's here at County. Ray, I'm sorry, but it doesn't look good. They're taking her in to surgery."

"How bad?" He knew crowd crushes were really dangerous. People got killed. "What kind of surgery? How is she?"

"Bad. It's bad. She came in with a collapsed lung, four broken ribs, a lot of soft tissue damage but it's the head injury they're worried about. They're going to try to relieve some of the pressure…"

"Was she conscious?"

"No. She's never regained consciousness. Now they're going to keep her under. I know it sounds crazy, but I think she'd do better if you were here. It's probably asking a lot; it **is **asking a lot since you just got there to see your mother, but, Ray, I think you'd better come. I'm scared. I don't think you'd better wait if you want to see her."

He had just heard Abby Lockhart admit she was scared. It must be really bad. He decided in an instant. "Abby, I'll get there as soon as I can. But, it's complicated. I need you to do me a favor. Call Astrid in HR; she offered me a spot at the Rehab Center in County. I'm going to need it after all. While I call the airlines, can you call her and see if they've still got room at the inn? Make the arrangements, if you can. I'll call you back as soon as I get a flight."

"The Rehab Center? Ray, what's going on?"

"I didn't—I don't—want everybody knowing. I had an accident and I'm going to need care. My Mom was going to take care of me while I did outpatient therapy down here. But now, well, plans can change. I hope. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"Ray, what happened? How are you? What kind of accident?"

"Abby, not now. All will be clear when I see you, which will be soon, if I can start making calls. What's your number?"

"I'm in the ER and I'll be here all night. We've got a little lull now so I'll call Astrid right away. Talk to you soon, Ray, and thanks."

OK. Do things. Don't think. _God, Neela, you can't die. Don't die, Neela, don't die_. Call the airline, arrange for transportation to County, tell Mom, pack the few things that were unpacked. _Neela, Neela. Don't die before I can tell you how sorry I am. Don't die ever. _He found himself vaguely praying non-stop in the car to the airport, on the airplane, in the access van ride across Chicago. _God, don't let Neela die. Let Neela live._ Ray didn't consider himself a religious person anymore, although he'd gone to church regularly as a child, but he found himself making bargains with God—all kinds of crazy bargains, if she would just live.

He wheeled himself in to the ER with his stuff bag balanced across what was left of his legs. The rest of his bags hadn't made the quick connection at Dulles. His flight plan had been bizarre, but he didn't think he could afford to be choosy. It really was just as well, it gave him way less stuff to deal with. He didn't know how he'd had the presence of mind to grab his staff ID but he was glad of it as he could get in through the staff entrance. He found Abby at the desk and she updated him. Surgery was done; Neela was in the ICU.

The nurse wouldn't let him in, of course. Family only, and Tony Gates. He worried about what that last meant, but also considered that Gates may have managed to manipulate the ICU staff more skillfully than he. No luck when he tried to explain how far away her family was and how long it would likely be before they could arrive. He said he lived with her, and it didn't even feel like a lie when he said it. He tried to reason that, as a doctor he was here to help, but he had no success with that argument, either. Fortunately, Dr. Dubenko came by and took pity on him. After he came out from checking on Neela, he scrawled Ray's name on the records at the desk and said, "But you've got to behave. Don't upset her. One visitor at a time. That means you and Gates have to work it out. Peacefully. Understand?" Lucien would be remembering the brawl at the wedding. That seemed so long in the past now. Lucien couldn't know what a changed man Ray was now. Now he had promised God, among other things, that if only Neela would live, he, Ray, would accept her with Gates. Ray thought God might be making sure he really meant it. He nodded his assent. Lucien ordered, "Have them page me if you notice any change." Again, Ray nodded.

When he was in the room at last, he looked at the chart immediately, although he knew this was a terrible violation of her privacy and the HIPAA rules. A part of him admitted it was a stalling tactic, to delay the moment he'd been dreading, when he would see for himself just how bad it was. He hoped the chart would give him some professional distance, but as soon as he looked down at her he realized what a vain hope that had been. She was so battered and looked so frail. Her head was a mass of bandages and all her lovely hair was gone. He felt rage and terror and an almost primal urge to hurt the thing that had dared to hurt her. She was hooked up via a series of wires and tubes to all the usual equipment. This should seem routine to him, but he wanted to scream, or cry, or both.

The chart didn't tell him much he didn't know already. They had her in a drug induced coma to try to reduce brain swelling. There was nothing to do now but wait and hope her vitals held steady. He knew it was no use expecting much in the way of positive signs in the near future; he'd need to school himself to patience. Later, when they stopped the drugs, he could look for signs that she was coming out of it. Now, he just needed to be alert for any bad changes. So, he wheeled himself to the side where he had a good view of the pulse oximeter. He got as close as he could get, carefully threaded his hand through the bed and took her hand in his. It was awkward, but it was wonderful. He allowed himself a moment of pure gratitude for his life, and hers. He was amazed that they were both still among the living, when it could have been so different. He resolutely pushed away the thought that Neela had a tenuous hold on life right now. Instead, he leaned close so he could speak softly, "You'll get through this, I promise." And he willed himself to believe it. He sat there for a while, staring at her pulse, her pressure, her oxidization levels. He realized he was exhausted. He couldn't remember when it was that he had taken his last meds. From the throbbing pain in both his legs, it had clearly been awhile. He could use another one, but he couldn't leave her this soon. He wasn't sure how he was ever going to leave her again.

When he jerked awake, he realized he'd dozed off sitting upright in the chair. He was afraid his hand had pulled too hard on Neela's. Everything looked OK and her vital signs hadn't changed. Still, he didn't want to take any chances. He knew they were monitoring from the station, but he hated to leave her alone.

He surrendered to the inevitable. He was in this for the long haul; later she would need him more and he needed to be healthy enough to be of use to her. Again, he leaned in close so he could speak softly. It was strange to talk to her. He had no sense she was there. He cleared his throat. "Um, it's me, Neela. Ray. Honey, I'm going to go, but just for a little while, I promise. Sweet dreams, Neela." It was a good thing she was in a coma, he sounded like an idiot. Oh, well, in for a penny. "Rest, baby. Doctor's orders." He wheeled himself out and up the elevator to check in at his new digs in the Rehab Center.


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimer: All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

A/N—Wow! What a supportive community this is—I posted my first fiction ever and have a half dozen reviews in a day! Thanks so much! On with the story:

Ray was exhausted by the time he had returned to his new room. He did not have enough arm strength yet for the chair. He wasn't terrifically good at maneuvering it, either. It wasn't a skill he was particularly anxious to acquire. His legs were both throbbing, but he wanted to hold off on the meds until he was ready for bed. He called his Mom, to let her know he was all settled in. She still wasn't thrilled by the change in plans. He faithfully promised he would supply regular updates. After the call he was somewhat ashamed to realize he was going to need assistance getting into bed; he had gone beyond his limits today. He'd be busy tomorrow, too, but he'd think about that tomorrow. Soon after taking his pain meds, he was sound asleep.

The next day was a full one. He met his rehabilitation team—O.T., P.T., psychologist and caseworker. He didn't know any of them—it reminded him of how little he had ever thought about the aftermath of trauma working in the ER. He tried not to think too far into the future. Ordinarily, that was no problem for him. He'd never been a guy for long term plans. Clearly, his accident had affected more than his body. He was feeling anxious. He was aware that he was worrying about Neela as a kind of background noise in his head during all the consults this morning. He had a pretty good picture of what his therapy schedule would be for the next few weeks. He knew he should try to get in touch with Gates and work out some kind of schedule for visits. He wasn't sure how to approach the problem, though. He didn't have an official status with Neela. He hadn't parted on the best of terms with Gates. He recalled saying something unforgivable about Meg; he'd been pretty drunk by that point. He was glad to have a reprieve from starting that conversation when he had to deal with his luggage, which finally had caught up with him. Then he got a call from the insurance agency for the trucking company. It sounded like a generous offer, but he didn't commit himself. He knew the smart thing to do was to have a lawyer advise him. He mentally put that on tomorrow's to do list.

He decided to just take his chances and go to Neela's room. No one was visiting. He wheeled himself in. He checked on the monitors; her vitals were all good. He backtracked to the foot of her bed and looked over the chart. What he saw was really good news, in that she'd been holding remarkably steady since he'd left last night. He put the chart back and wheeled himself close to her. He threaded his hand through the bed so that he could clasp hers.

"Hi, uh, Neela. It's Ray. You're doing really good. You just hang in there. Keep up the good work. Listen, Neela, I'm sorry, OK? I'm sorry I was harsh when you came to the hospital. I can't stand talking about feelings, Neela. But I love you. I said I fell in love with you, like it was all past tense, but I still love you. So, please, if you can hear me, come back soon, please, Neela."

He knew she hadn't heard a word, but he felt better for having said them. And he was really glad he'd said the words when he realized Tony Gates was coming down the hall. Ray recalled that Neela had told him in the hospital that it was over with Tony. But, he knew Tony had treated her at the rally and brought her to the ER. He knew Neela's visitor list had read family and Tony Gates. He also knew, of course, what the nature of their relationship had been. He couldn't believe it was completely casual on Neela's side, at least. But he figured they could all sort all this stuff out later; right now, the only thing that mattered was Neela getting well. She could use all the support she could get right now, so he said "Hello, Tony."

"Ray Barnett. I thought you were in Baton Rogue."

"I was." He took a deep breath. "Look, Tony, I'd like to apologize…"

"For what? For how pathetic you are? What do you think is here for you, man?"

Ray wasn't sure how he found his self-control. He was furious, but he knew Dubenko would pull his visiting privileges, maybe pull both their visiting privileges if there was a scene. He hadn't traveled back, or changed all his plans, to wait outside this room. Especially now when he felt that the only thing he had left that he valued at all was here in this room. "My friend is here. And I want to help."

"You? Here to help?" Tony's contemptuous gaze swept over him. Ray was painfully aware of what he looked like, sitting in a wheelchair with no legs and his face half-scraped off. "Look, Tony, Dr. Dubenko said one visitor at a time, so I'll just go now and leave you." He wheeled around and out the door with as much dignity as he could muster to the sound of Tony's fond farewell: "You do that, Barnett. Leave. Get the hell out."

Tony was completely shocked to see Barnett here. He looked down at Neela and wondered just what kind of visit she'd had with him before her accident. She had clearly told him that they were done, and then she went running off to Mercy after some phone call, but ended up at the peace rally by herself while he'd heard that Barnett was headed to Baton Rogue after some unspecified accident of his own. It was quite shocking to see him; he was literally half the man he used to be and that had never been much, in Tony's estimation. The guy had lived with Neela, how long? He was obviously in love with her and yet clearly he had never gotten the obvious benefits such a living arrangement offered. 'Friend' he'd called himself. Pathetic. Of course, Tony wasn't sure of his own status at the moment. Ex, most likely, but he couldn't accept that before. Now, well, it was hard to predict what shape Neela would be in.

Ray was grateful that he didn't bump into Tony over the next few days. He did meet the Rasgotras. They were a little distant with him at first. He knew they'd found the roommate thing suspicious; why should they be different from most folks at the hospital, after all? But they had warmed up to him after he spent some time explaining about the induced coma Neela was in. Ray had been doing a lot of reading on head injuries—more than on amputation and prosthetics, if he was honest. He'd also gotten them some help finding a decent place to stay near County. They'd fallen into a routine where Ray came to sit with Neela in the early afternoon so the Rasgotras could get something to eat.

About three days in, Neela's vitals started dropping. Her breathing was labored and she was retaining way too much fluid. When they started to get that straightened out, she started throwing odd heart rhythms. Ray was glad he felt he needed to put up a good front for her parents, because he was truly terrified. But they seemed to get the right balance of medications again, and her vitals stabilized. By the end of the first week, Neela's facial swelling was receding. The bruising was spreading out but fading so that she looked, more and more like herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Standard disclaimer:** All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

* * *

Today was twenty-five days after her accident. Today was the day Ray Barnett began to seriously worry that Neela might never wake up. Yesterday morning, when there'd been no sign that she was coming to, he'd talked to Lucien. He'd begged him, really, to discuss a hypothetical patient with a head injury. Without speaking about Neela in particular, Lucien had made clear to Ray that there was no standard timetable that fit everybody. But yesterday afternoon, Ray had seen the Hospital social worker talking to the Rasgotras and when the conversation was over, Mrs. Rasgotra was crying. He'd worried all night, which wasn't like him and he wasn't good at it. He began to realize that Neela alive wasn't enough. He needed Neela back. So, when he came to sit with her today he brought his guitar. He was pretty sure if he had to think of cheerful things to say he would crack. He was in a near panic of despair at the thought of months or years of this limbo. He took the guitar out the case and rested it across his thighs. It was awkward with the wheelchair, but he managed. 

"Good afternoon, Neela. It's Ray. Do you mind if I play a little music?" He paused a minute for a response, although he didn't expect one. He was really getting the hang of conversing with her in her present state. Sometimes he wondered if he'd remember how to carry on a normal conversation when she regained consciousness. He was always careful to use when in that phrase, even when he said it in his head.

"I'll apologize in advance for how bad I'm going to suck. I haven't had time to practice. Physical therapy is going well. The Pain Clinic appointments are helping, too." He started to aimlessly strum and pick a few notes. He realized his instrument was badly out of tune. He didn't have a tuning fork in the case, so he just tuned it to itself. He tried to recall which songs from his repertoire Neela liked. He couldn't think, so he fell back on playing some of the first songs he ever learned to play: gospel and folk songs. He started with Amazing Grace and continued with How Can I Keep from Singing? His favorite part about church had been the music. Playing old gospel songs did soothe him somewhat, but appeared to have no effect on Neela. He tried to think of English folk songs, vaguely hoping Neela had learned them a long time ago, too, and that they might stir a memory. He chided himself. 'Next I'll want to try waking her with a kiss, like Prince Charming.' He glanced at her beautiful face and was tempted. But, it seemed a violation since she couldn't consent and he resisted the impulse. He remembered that kiss in the car and all it had seemed to promise. It was a promise she hadn't kept, of course. She went back to Gates. He pushed that thought away. It wasn't important; right now, the only important thing was that she wake up and be okay. He needed Neela alive and in the world. He wasn't sure why but he started to play Flow Gently, Sweet Afton and he started to sing softly, too, to stop thinking. He grinned sardonically when he got to the part about asking the river not to disturb the sleeping lover's dreams.

Neela was dreaming. _She felt like she was floating, but she could look down at herself and see that although she was near a stream, she was not in the water. She was lying on a large blanket on the bank. The remains of a picnic lunch were spread out around her. A man approached. She could only see his feet at first. He was tall and towering over her. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up into the face of Ray Barnett. He was smiling like he had a secret. He asked, "Had enough? Or would you like dessert?"_

_"Oh, dessert, of course, please."_

_"Open wide." Ray knelt down beside her and fed her one perfect strawberry, warmed by the sun. It tasted as incredible as it smelled. Ray smiled at her, took the stem off another berry, gently held it in his mouth and leaned toward her._

The English folk songs did not appear to be working for either one of them. There was still no sign from Neela and they just weren't challenging enough to take Ray's mind off his worries. He switched gears completely to an acoustic version of Rebel Yell that the band used to cover. The guitar solo was intense. He felt relaxed for the first time in weeks, because he was completely unable to think about anything. His total concentration was focused on playing when Tony Gates walked in the room.

"Wow. You're good." Ray hardly knew how to respond. He'd lost all track of time. "Thanks. Hey, sorry man, I should have cleared out already." He clumsily put the guitar back in its case and balanced it across himself. He'd have to take his leave of Neela with Gates in the room. "Goodbye, Neela." Although he was self-conscious with Gates standing there, he paused and then finished with "I'll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams."

Tony watched Barnett retreating, threading his chair around equipment in the hall and maneuvering around the nurses' station. He was getting pretty good with that thing, poor bastard. Tony sat in the chair and looked at Neela, or at Neela's body. Neela wasn't in the room and Tony had serious doubts that she ever would be. Hearing Barnett talk to her was strange. He was aware of the theories that sensory stimulation helped coma patients, but Tony hadn't talked to Neela since the day of the accident. It was just too peculiar; it made him think of psych patients talking to imaginary companions or drunks talking to themselves. Barnett seemed natural at it, maybe because he was better at deluding himself, especially when it came to Neela. For a moment there, Tony had caught the fantasy, too. He'd half expected Neela to say goodbye to Ray. Barnett and Mayday. What a pair they made now. The Gimp and the Gork. He knew that was cold, but he'd been doing a lot of thinking while sitting in this room the last couple weeks. He'd gone to the rally to try to convince Neela to change her mind about him. But now, with her so changed, he'd begun thinking maybe he'd had a lucky escape. Between his work and Sarah, the very last thing on earth he needed or wanted was someone else to take care of. He'd admired Neela's independence. Now, in the unlikely event she woke up at all, the last thing she would be was independent.

Neela's dream had turned into a nightmare. _She didn't know how it had happened, but she and Ray weren't at the riverbank anymore. They were standing in the middle of a highway. They were separated by a lane of traffic which was mostly a procession of emergency vehicles whizzing by with their sirens blaring. She had to scream to be heard above the noise. 'Ray!!!!'_

Tony Gates heard a faint sound. It wasn't like the sounds he always heard here—equipment beeping, phones at the nurses' station, conversation from other rooms. He could have sworn it came from the bed. He looked at Neela. He couldn't see a change. He looked at the monitor. There something was happening. Both her pulse and blood pressure were elevated. Not alarmingly, but definitely a change since he entered the room. He stood up and moved closer to Neela.

_There was a truck, heading straight for Ray. Neela lunged into the traffic lane. Oh, God, she must have been hit by something, because there was so much pain._

Neela was starting to stir now, most definitely. Tony stepped out to the nurses' station to tell them to page Dr. Dubenko because something was happening here. Then he went back to Neela's side.

_Neela watched the truck hit Ray. His body went flying, doing a grotesque cartwheel in mid-air. A severed limb landed in front of her, but more horrifying, she'd lost sight of Ray; she couldn't see him anywhere. Although she was in agony, and it hurt even to breathe, she took a deep breath to scream again. 'Ray! Where are you?'_

"Ray," Neela whispered. Her eyes weren't open but it was clear her lips had just formed the word Ray, although very little sound had come out. Tony felt a stab of pure jealousy and frustration, as if he'd lost some contest. But in the next instant he had to admit that he was also flooded with a nearly overwhelming feeling of relief.

Now Neela was getting restless and Tony began to worry she was going to pull out some of her tubes. She was vaguely grabbing for them, but her aim was no good. He was glad to see the ICU nurse enter the room. "They often wake up combative." Tony saw she had soft restraints and had started putting Neela's hand through. Neela had tears on her cheeks and was repeating "Ray. I want Ray."

"Neela, it's Tony. Try to calm down. Ray's not here right now, but I'll go get him." The nurse had her fully restrained now. Tony went out to the hall to phone Barnett.

Ray answered on the first ring.

"Hi, Ray, it's Tony."

"Neela?" Tony thought he'd never heard so many emotions conveyed with a single word. It was almost painful to listen to that mix of hope, terror and love.

"Yeah." He paused and said, "She's awake and she's asking for you."

Ray's first thought was a prayer of pure gratitude, which was followed by an unfamiliar feeling of humility. He couldn't think of a thing he'd done to deserve this kind of good fortune. He said, "I'll be right there." Ray considered how he would feel if he'd been in the room and Neela had awakened asking for Gates. He said sincerely, "Thank you, Tony."


	4. Chapter 4

**Standard disclaimer:** All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

* * *

Ray set a new personal best through the hallways and was incredibly impatient as he waited for the elevator. When he got to the room, he was relieved to see that Tony Gates was not there. He also saw that even though Neela was in restraints, she was still so agitated Dr. Dubenko was ordering up a sedative to put her back under. Ray didn't think like a doctor; he really didn't think at all. Instead, he wheeled himself next to the bed and grasped her questing hand. He was horrified to hear Neela talking about a truck and repeating his name. 

"Dr. Barnett, please…" Ray ignored Lucien and instead put all his focus on Neela.

"It's Ray. Hush. I'm right here and I'm fine. Please, baby, you've got to calm down."

_In her nightmare, Neela had been looking all over the road for Ray, but had only found a truck with its grill dripping blood._ _Tony Gates and Lucien Dubenko and some woman she didn't recognize kept trying to pull her from the roadway, but she kept trying to tell them she wasn't going anywhere without Ray._ _Then, suddenly, she thought she heard Ray. Yet, it didn't sound much like Ray. Neela had seen Ray with women and he never sounded as tender as the voice she heard now. Neela stopped searching and tried to figure out where this voice, the one that could be Ray, was coming from._

Ray wasn't making a lot of sense. He felt just as completely helpless as he had these weeks she'd been in a coma. Now, in the face of this irrational, confused Neela he could only keep trying to calm her as if she were a child, like when he tried to calm his little stepsister when she lived with them and would wake up from a nightmare. He was reduced to mostly shushing and Baby and repeated pleas for calm. Then the most amazing thing happened. Neela looked right at him. She seemed to be having trouble focusing, but she looked at him and then she grew still.

Dr. Dubenko paused for a moment. The nurse had a hypo ready, but he waved it off and said "Let's give Dr. Barnett another minute and see how she does."

Ray reached up and wiped the tears away from Neela's face with this thumb. "Neela, you gave us quite a scare. Can you tell me where you are?"

It was a little chilling to hear her say "The road. Ray. The truck."

"No, Neela. Where are we right now?"

"The hospital." He was about to congratulate her when she said "Your legs" in such a stricken tone that he thought it likely she still wasn't quite with them. She appeared to be remembering the day she had seen him at Mercy and found out what had happened to him. He suddenly remembered all the medical people still in the room and tried to think how he could get from where he was in this conversation to a more standard assessment.

"That's good, Neela. That was the day you had your accident. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Your legs. It's my fault."

"No, Neela, it's not. Think, Neela. You came to the hospital and then I left. Where did you go?"

"A cab. Got cab."

"Good, and then what happened?"

"Thinking about you, and Michael. There was a noise; it was the rally I forgot. Told the cab to stop."

"Good, Neela." And he meant it. It was remarkable. Her account was linear and her language was good. "What do you remember next?"

Now Neela stopped and started to look distressed. "Nothing. You. A stream."

That didn't make any sense to him. He knew it was common to have memory loss surrounding a trauma. Some victims never remember it all. Personally, he was hoping he would never recall the exact moment when the truck hit him.

Neela was looking at him intently and said "Your face. It's healed. Pretty."

Ray wanted to say that she was the beautiful one, but instead he cupped her face with his hand and just looked back into the eyes that were by some miracle looking at him.

"What day is it, Neela?" Dr. Dubenko was speaking now, straight out of the standard head injury assessment playbook. Neela's eyes left Ray for the first time as she shifted her attention to Lucien.

"Thursday."

It wasn't, but Thursday was the day of Neela's accident so Ray took that as a good sign. He was also encouraged that both of her eyes had shifted focus to the questioner.

"Where are you?"

"County?" she said, with some uncertainty.

"Very good, Dr. Rasgotra. Welcome back. Do you have any questions?"

"How long?"

"How long have you been here?"

Neela nodded.

"Twenty-five days so far. As Dr. Barnett said, you gave us quite a scare. I think we're going to let you rest, now. I'll be by at morning rounds and we'll discuss the care plan."

Ray tried to disentangle his hand from Neela's, but she gripped it with surprising strength.

"Neela, I'd better go. You heard the doctor."

But Lucien put a hand on his shoulder. "No, if Neela would like you to stay, and if you promise you'll let her rest, you can stay."

"The Rasgotras?" Ray asked.

The nurse replied, "They're at the airport. They said it might be awhile. The sister was going home, but now she's going to try for a new flight."

"Jess has been here?"

"I told you you'd given us all a scare. But stop worrying. Rest or Dr. Dubenko will toss me out of here for sure."

"Could I get out of these?" Neela asked, indicating the restraints.

"Yes" responded Lucien as he left. The nurse removed the restraints from one hand while Ray removed them from the other. The nurse finished with the other restraints and left the room.

"Ray? I thought you said you were going home."

"I think I realized I am home."

Neela started to cry again. Ray handed her a Kleenex from the table and said, "Shhh, you've got to calm down. I want to stay, but you've got to calm down."

Neela giggled and said "Baby?"

Ray looked at her and raised his eyebrow. He felt like he was blushing.

Neela continued, "Before. You called me Baby. Many times."

"I'm sorry; I wasn't…"

"No. Don't be sorry. I liked it. Ray, I'm the one who's sorry. So sorry. About so many things."

"Neela, we've got a lot of time to talk about all this, but later. Right now you need rest and this conversation doesn't seem restful to me."

"I think I've rested long enough."

"Look, frankly, **I'm** too tired to have this conversation now."

"But you will stay."

"Sure, Baby."

Neela smiled, but he didn't say it like before. She realized she'd probably hurt his feelings and she was going to need to be more careful with him. A lot had happened since they were roommates, after all. It was too soon to be teasing him. She sighed and then winced.

"Are you in pain?"

"Yes. My chest hurts when I breathe"

"Sorry. That's four broken ribs. If it's any consolation they should be mending. You were asleep for the worst part." He had started to rub her hand gently between two of his. She concentrated on the feeling and could sense that she was relaxing. She closed her eyes.

"Talk to me." Neela realized how much she'd missed his voice. She'd forgotten how much she had loved hearing him. She used to sit in her room sometimes and listen to him talking with his band mates. He had such a perfect voice and she loved it.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"Anything. I just want to hear your voice. Tell me how you've been."

"Well, I've been worried. But I'm fine now." And he realized that, despite everything, he spoke the truth. He felt fine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Standard disclaimer:** All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

* * *

Ray was silent a moment and then said, "It's strange. I can't think of a thing to tell you. I've been talking to you for 25 days. I suppose I could just start over since you probably didn't hear me. Could you hear me?" 

Neela considered. "Tonight I heard you telling me to calm down." She didn't have the nerve to add 'Baby.' "And earlier I had the strangest dream. Were you talking about a stream? We were having a picnic. It was lovely." She looked at his lips and remembered a strawberry. She repeated, "Lovely."

"A stream? You said that when you were waking up." Ray tried to remember. This afternoon he was so worried he'd brought the guitar. Then he remembered. "'My Neela's asleep by thy murmuring stream. Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dreams.'"

"Is that a poem? Does it really say Neela?"

Ray looked embarrassed. "It's an old English folk song. I think it's Mary. Pretty unimaginative. I like Neela better."

Neela thought a moment. "Ray, you said you'd been talking to me for 25 days. Lucien said I've only been here 25 days…"

"That's right." He was afraid he knew where this conversation was going.

"So, you were here every day."

"I'm glad to see you math skills seem unaffected; I'll be sure to tell Dr. Dubenko."

"Be serious. Ray, the day I had my accident you were leaving for Baton Rogue. Didn't you go?"

"I went. Abby called, so I came back."

"Right away?"

"As soon as I could get a flight."

"Ray, you should have waited. You shouldn't have taken two trips the same day they released you from hospital. I wasn't going anywhere."

"I hoped that was true." Ray thought about how he had prayed she would live. "Neela, you were in really bad shape." He remembered what it had been like to see her battered face and her body all hooked up to tubes. He shuddered when he recalled how she had crashed that first week. "Please, can we not talk about this tonight? You should rest. I think I'd better go."

"Please stay. At least until I fall asleep. I promise I'll try to rest. You said that was a folk song. Did you sing it to me?" She thought he looked embarrassed when he said yes, but she loved to think of him singing to her while she was sleeping. "Would you sing me something now? Like a lullaby?"

"If you stopped talking you might be able to sleep. Or I could see if you've got standing orders for something to help."

"No, please, if you'll sing or talk to me, I'll close my eyes and try to sleep."

Ray tried to think. He wasn't sure he knew a lullaby. There was the one his step-sister liked that he'd sing to get her back to sleep after a nightmare. So he started out softly, "Hush little"–he nearly winced when he realized this dreaded word started it off—"baby not a word. Brother's gonna buy you…"

"Isn't it supposed to be Mama, or in your case, Papa?"

"If I were answering questions from a sleeping person, I'd say that I've never been either of those."

"You've never been a brother, either, have you? I thought it was just you and your mum."

He knew he should go so she could rest. Clearly she wasn't going to stop talking while he was in the room. But after all these weeks of his worry and her silence, it was just so good to have her back. He'd missed her so much. He hadn't realized how much until he was here with her and the conversation was coming pretty easily like it used to when they lived together. So instead of trying to leave again, he answered her. "Well, not all the time. For the short time my mother's second marriage lasted, I had a step-sister about"—he had to think, it had been so long—"five years younger than I am."

"Where is she now?"

"I have no idea."

"You don't know?"

"No. I tried to keep in touch with her after the divorce, but neither of the parents was very excited about the idea. One day my letter came back and the phone number I had didn't work anymore, either."

"What was her name?"

"Cat. Short for Catherine. I called her Kitty Cat, of course, sometimes just Kitty. I was about twelve—she didn't seem to mind."

"I bet she adored you."

"Yeah. That's why I tried to stay in touch."

"What was her last name? Maybe you could google her."

Ray laughed a short, humorless laugh. "Smith. And my step-father was John."

"Oh. And you have no idea where she lives."

"None."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"It was a long time ago. But, I thought you were going to quietly listen to my beautiful lullaby, not interrogate me about it. Where was I? Never mind. Speaking of sisters, here comes yours with your folks. So, I'm clearing out."

"Stay to meet them at least."

"I met your folks more than three weeks ago. I'm practically a family member now. Good night."

She was vaguely disappointed she wouldn't get to introduce him to her family; he'd done that himself. She was more disappointed he was leaving. Still holding his hand she asked, hoping it would sound like it went along with the lullaby, "Do I get a goodnight kiss?"

Ray was very aware that Neela's parents were about to step into the room, so he leaned over and gave Neela a chaste peck on her forehead. "Sweet dreams. I'll see you tomorrow."

As her family came into the room, it was obvious they knew Ray and were quite friendly with him. Interestingly, her mother stopped to converse with Ray as he was leaving. Jess and her father had come over and were both trying to talk to her at once, so she couldn't hear what her mother was saying. She saw her mother lean down and give Ray a hug before he left.

Her mother approached the bed, "How are you?"

"I'm not completely sure. If you'd hand me my chart, I could tell you."

"No, you don't need to read your chart. Ray says you need rest. So we won't stay long tonight. How do you feel?"

"A bit wonky." Ray was ordering her mother around? And she let him? Neela realized many interesting developments had occurred while she was sleeping. "My ribs hurt. It's odd to think about how much time I've missed."

"You were very lucky, Neela. We were all very worried."

Neela realized both her parents looked exhausted. Her father looked ten years older than the last time she had seen him.

"I am kind of tired. Where are you staying?"

"At a place near to the hospital. We've got a nice little lounge, which is where Jess has been sleeping since she arrived. There's a bit of kitchen so we can do some cooking. Ray helped us find it. It's too bad about his legs. He's a nice young man. **He likes** my chicken tikka."

Neela wanted to tell her mother that Ray liked practically anything, especially if someone else cooked it for him.

"You had him over for dinner?"

"No. He stayed with you so we could make lunch. Sometimes I'd bring him a little something along. He was here every day and so concerned. Not like that other one. The tall, good-looking one. You made Ray very happy today by waking up. And made us happy, too. We'll go now and see you tomorrow."

Yes, some very interesting developments indeed while she had been asleep. Wait, didn't her mother think Ray was good looking? And Tony had been here. She remembered now that she'd heard him while she was waking up. She'd dreamed about him, too. She didn't want to think about the problem of what to do about Tony and Ray. Maybe she should go back to sleep. Life seemed less complicated then.


	6. Chapter 6

**Standard disclaimer:** All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

* * *

"Morning, Mayday! How are you feeling?" 

Neela awoke to find Tony Gates towering over her bed.

"Tony. Good morning. I'm doing well, or so Lucien told me on rounds this morning."

"Want me to take a look at your chart and give you a second opinion?"

"That won't be necessary. Look, I guess" Neela felt awkward around him. He was looking quite good and being quite charming. He'd said that last in a rather playful manner, though there was the ever present arrogance underneath. "I mean, I want to thank you Tony. I hear you treated me on the scene and got me to the emergency room. You probably saved my life."

"I did save your life. I'm just glad you're OK, so you're welcome, Mayday."

"I asked you not to call me that."

"Look, Dr. Rasgotra, I'm trying here. I don't really know how to do this. I know you said we're done."

"Because we are."

"But we're going to be working together. So, I came by to say I'm glad you're back and to talk about what we do next. Are we just co-workers or are we still friends?"

"We're friends."

"Can I ask a question, as a friend? Are we done because of Barnett? And is that still your plan?"

"That was more than one question. We're done because we're done. Ray's my friend, too, and if you and I are going to be friends, you're going to have to deal with that. Clear?"

"Oh, **I'm **clear." Neela could hear the smirk in his voice, although his face hadn't changed expression.

"What does that mean?"

"Neela, now that we're just friends, I'm going to give you some advice. Make up your mind about what you want. Quit jerking people around." Tony could feel himself getting angry.

"I resent that, Tony."

He thought about some of the things he had lost, and how despite that, Neela had just decided they were done. He'd been around the block enough times to know that when a girl says it's over, it's over. And that another girl was out there somewhere. Now that Neela had given him his walking papers, Tony intended to just keep walking. But he couldn't help trying to get in a last word before he went. "Well, pardon me, but it's true." He was still angry, but he calmed down a bit when he considered that while Neela was a smart girl, and she had sometimes too keen an insight when it came to him, she was not good at examining her own motives. "Look, I don't think you meant to jerk me—or anybody else—around, but it is the effect of your inability to decide. No big problem for me, but frankly, Barnett strikes me as a less resilient kind of guy. But that's not my problem, either."

"Tony…" Neela started to make an argument in her own defense. She paused when she had to admit some of what Tony said was true. She considered whether she was any good for Ray. Katey had said what happened to Ray was her fault and Neela felt responsible.

In his usual exasperating manner, Tony sensed her moment of weakness and leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. To Neela's horror, it was at that exact moment that she found herself looking straight into the shocked face of Ray Barnett, who had just wheeled himself through the doorway to her room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Standard disclaimer:** All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

* * *

Ray couldn't believe he was back here again. It was like seeing them through the exam window or at the wedding. When she'd asked for him when she woke up, he'd felt hope. Now he thought it was hope that was going to kill him. Because here he was again, watching her with Gates. 

He'd had a terrible morning in Physical Therapy, falling more often than walking. After, he'd struggled with his seated shower. He'd put on his prosthetics, although the phantom pain was bad today. He'd dressed casually, but carefully. He was looking forward to spending time with Neela before he had to see the social worker. She wanted him to start thinking about moving to an apartment and completing his work as an outpatient. He was terrified that he wasn't ready to live on his own yet.

As he stopped in the doorway, he thought that a man with better judgment and a stronger sense of self-preservation would turn around and call up Katey Alvaro or any one of the many willing women of his acquaintance. Unfortunately, he was Ray Barnett and even now he couldn't imagine looking at Neela without being filled with the same desperate longing he'd been feeling for what seemed like years. So, cursing himself for an idiot, he wheeled himself through the doorway and tried to sound normal, cheerful even, as he said, "Hi, Neela. Hi, Tony. Is this a bad time?"

"Hi, Ray. No, this is good. I've got great news they're moving me out of ICU today. Lucien told me this morning."

"That's terrific," Ray hoped he sounded more enthusiastic than he felt. Was he going to need to make small talk with her and Gates for the next hour?

Neela noticed how good Ray looked this morning, more like himself. He was dressed in jeans and a T shirt, the green one she liked because it did something to bring out his eyes. She tried to look in those eyes to see if she could tell what he was thinking, but he wouldn't meet her gaze. She didn't want him to leave, but she wanted Tony gone. "Tony was leaving."

Tony smiled down at her, put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Catch you later, Neela." He acknowledged Ray with a brief nod as he left the room.

"That wasn't what it looked like, Ray."

Ray had wheeled himself next to the bed. He sighed and then he did look at her. "So, Neela, are you ready to tell me what it is? And what we are? Or what, if anything, you'd like us to be? Because I think I need to know. I've got a lot of decisions to make about my life and it would help if I had some idea of how you feel about me, Neela. Because, God help me, I think I still love you."

Now Neela wished he hadn't looked at her. He looked so defeated and sad and she thought it was one more thing she could feel guilty about. How could they ever work? And yet, she knew she wanted this to work. But she was so bad at talking about how she was feeling. She thought about all the mistakes she'd made since, well, since she got married to Michael really. She was afraid if she confessed them all and Ray knew everything, he'd be absolutely disgusted with her.

"Now would be a good time to say something, Neela."

She couldn't think of what to say so she focused on the last thing Ray had said, which hadn't been 'I love you'. She asked, "You **think **you still love me, but you don't know?"

"I think I still love you, even though I've felt incredibly angry at you. And, by the way, congratulations, because once again I see that we're talking about how I feel about you. I think I asked for some information about how you feel about me."

"I feel guilty, Ray."

"Guilty about what?"

"Where to start, Ray? I feel guilty that I let you leave that wedding and that you were checking my message when you had your accident. I feel guilty that you lost both your legs. I feel guilty that every time, like at the wedding, like today, when I'm trying to get Tony to leave me alone it looks like something else when you arrive." She started to cry, but she just kept talking; she was afraid if she stopped she'd never find the courage to say any of it again. He deserved to know it all; maybe it was the only thing she could do for him now, to try to explain. "I feel guilty that after the last time you kissed me, because you were so patient, I let you wait weeks while I delayed telling Tony that we were done; that he was never that important to me. I feel guilty about Meg that I hurt her and Sarah so much and for something that didn't really matter to me at all. But mostly I feel guilty about Michael, because I thought I loved him but how much could I have loved him when I kept living with you and I loved living with you and I wanted you so much I had to leave in the middle of the night before I did something crazy. And I didn't even explain; I drove off in a taxi. I feel guilty that when Michael died and you came up to the roof and for months afterward, I pushed you away. I pushed you away because I wanted to have you hold me so tight. I'm a terrible person, Ray and you deserve someone better. I don't even know if I can love anybody; I married Michael and I really didn't know him. I'm bad at this Ray. Katey called me selfish and she was right. In spite of everything I just told you, if I could have anything in the world, it would be you, Ray. I want you, and I want things between us to be like they used to be. I want to watch devil movies and have you cook for me or order take away. I want to see if we could work because I know I love you, Ray." Neela finally stopped, out of breath and terrified.

Ray was trying to hand her a tissue, a wad of them, actually. She must look as awful as she felt and now she couldn't meet his gaze. "Neela, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. You're not a terrible person; you're a terrific person. But, God, Neela, did you have to store that all up for so long? Couldn't you have tried telling me that a little at a time? I don't know what to say to you; I need a little time to process here."

Neela wiped her eyes and blew her nose. After the wedding and before she knew about the accident, she'd found herself daydreaming of romantic reunion scenes when she and Ray could finally talk about how they really felt. None of them were anything like this. After she felt a little more human, she looked over at Ray. More than anything he looked puzzled, but he started talking.

"I won't lie to you, Neela. After my accident I did blame you. I don't think I was right to blame you, but I felt that way. Now I know it was an accident. Besides that, blame doesn't matter."

"Ray, I wish... if I could go back, I'd change things."

"Me, too. But we can't. Nothing can change what happened. I'm glad I'm still here and I'm really glad you're still here. When I heard about your accident, I was terrified. I knew that, more than anything, I wanted you in the world. I can't imagine a world without you in it; I can't imagine my life without you in it. I loved living with you, too. Although, having you right there sometimes felt like an exquisite form of torture. You were right to move out when you did. I didn't like it, but I understood it."

"You have no idea how many times I wanted to call you or just go back to our apartment."

"Yes, I think I do. But we can't ever go back, Neela. My life is a mess. I don't know if I'm ever going to walk again or be able to work again. You think I deserve better than you? I'm a mess, Neela."

"Ray, please don't say that. Right now you can't walk; maybe you will never walk again but that doesn't change who you are. Or I hope you won't let it change who you are. You still know everything you knew and that's what makes a doctor."

"But you know, as well as anyone, what kind of physical demands the job makes on you. I'm not sure it's realistic to think that I can do it now. I'm so damn tired, most of the time, you have no idea."

"Ray, of course you're tired. You've been here and worried about me instead of resting or worrying about your own recovery. But they really think I'm going to be fine, and now I'm going to help you."

"Neela, I don't want to be your patient. I want... things **I'm** monstrously selfish to want. Who in her right mind would saddle herself with me? I can't do anything! I don't see how we can ever make this work. I wish it could, but I don't see how."

"How about one step at a time?"

"With no legs, that's a little difficult." Ray smiled that smile that was impossible to resist, "But does this mean you'll have dinner with me tonight?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Standard disclaimer:** All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.

* * *

Neela sat in her hospital bed eagerly, but uneasily waiting for Ray to arrive. She had taken a shower after settling in to her new room. She didn't have much hair and she didn't have any makeup here at the hospital. She thought she looked pretty good, considering everything. She was feeling nervous, but it wasn't because of how she looked. Over the course of their acquaintance, Ray had seen her in a variety of states, many of them quite unattractive. She was apprehensive about how to behave with him. It felt strange to be contemplating a date with Ray Barnett. Although she'd been out with him plenty of times, this was the first time that felt like a date. Of course, how much of a date could you call sharing a hospital meal? The more she thought about this, the more she was driving herself crazy and the more ridiculous she felt. Where was Ray, anyway? And just as her anxiety was turning to annoyance, Ray wheeled himself through her doorway, looking very pleased with himself. 

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Ray said, indicating her hospital gown.

"Well, I don't have a lot of choices. I don't have any clothes here, Ray. Mum is going to bring me some tomorrow."

"Crap. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I didn't think I needed to dress up for dinner here. Hospital gowns are usually…"

Now he sounded disgusted. "You thought we were having dinner here? What kind of date would that be? I brought your coat." He tossed her lab coat, complete with staff badge, on the bed. "You're going to break us out of here."

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes, Neela, I am stir crazy. I have been living here for nearly four weeks. I want out. I want a normal meal. I want a beer. And if we stay here arguing about this too much longer we're never going to be downstairs in time to meet the cab."

"You called a cab."

"Of course I called a cab. I certainly haven't learned to drive with these things" indicating his prostestics "and the stairway to the El isn't happening yet either. So, I'm thinking you walk out with me like we're going down the hall. We pick up a pair of scrub pants from the supply closet and we'll go to my room where you can change. I'll loan you one of my T-shirts. Unless you want a scrub top, too. Then you wheel me out to the entrance where the cab will be in" looking at his watch "fifteen minutes. So get out of that bed."

"Ray, we can't just leave."

"What's the big deal? They're probably going to spring you tomorrow and they've started pushing me out the door already, too. So, let's get out of here for a night on the town. Well, part of the night. We'll be back by the time evening visiting hours are over. No one will miss us."

Neela consented to follow Ray's plan. They managed to meet the cab on time. It was a beautiful June evening and it did feel good to be outside. It was still rush hour and the cab was crawling through the streets. The cab driver hadn't been thrilled to see the wheelchair, but Ray had dealt with it competently. He stood up, using the car for balance and they managed to get the chair folded and into the trunk. Neela had been a little concerned about how much exertion it had seemed to be for him, but he'd looked happy. She had helped him into the cab; Ray had taken her hand then and was still holding it now in an easy grasp. Neela marveled at how even that slight contact affected her; she guessed that was what people meant when they talked about chemistry. "Where are you taking me?"

"Worried?"

"No, I'm just not dressed very well" and she touched what little there was of her hair a bit self-consciously.

Ray looked at her then. "You look beautiful." He thought the short hair brought out her eyes. "And, I'll have you know, that T-shirt is a classic. Besides, it's just a pub. I'm on a budget, you know."

"I can pay my share."

"Neela, I'm joking. Lighten up. There's a band I thought you might like. And here we are."

They reversed procedures to get Ray back in the wheelchair from the cab. Unfortunately, Ray had forgotten that most of the seating in the pub was either up a few steps or down a few steps. Amazing how things he never considered before were now so important. Only the bar was at the level of the entrance and there was no way he was sitting at the bar. The wait person was flustered and embarrassed, so Ray did his best to put her at ease. "If you could just find us a table close to a set of stairs and keep the wheelchair for us, we'll be fine. I can manage a few steps." He fervently hoped that would be true. With Neela's assistance, it was.

True to his word, as soon as they were seated Ray asked Neela if she wanted a beer. "What have they got you on for pain? Are you sure you should be drinking?"

"Dr. Rasgotra, I didn't ask you if I could have a beer. I asked if you wanted one. Let me worry about my prescriptions. It's going to be depressing enough to limit myself to one beer with my dinner; at least let me enjoy it. So, for you, yes or no?"

Ray ordered two beers for them. The band was on a break which gave them a chance to study the menus in silence.

"How is your pain management going Ray? Is this going to be too much for you? I'm not sure this was such a good idea. You've had to do an awful lot of exertion…"

"Neela. This is kind of going to be my life; I need to get used to it. I'll admit tonight was more of a struggle than I thought it would be, but we're here, and I haven't fallen on my ass yet. This is shaping up as an excellent evening. Have you decided what you're going to have?"

"How English is this place? Will the bangers and mash be any good?"

"That's their signature dish. I'm sticking with a burger. And chips."

"Oh, jolly good, Ray."

"Look, the band's going to start." They didn't have a great view from their seats, but they could hear them just fine. They played a variety of old rock songs with definite musical talent, but a completely humorous approach. It wasn't what Neela had been expecting. It was more in line with her taste than Ray's.

The food was good and Ray was in an excellent mood. He'd meant what he told Neela. The outing was going well. He had been kind of apprehensive. He noticed people staring when they came in and were trying to figure out the logistics, but now that he was seated and the chair was out of sight it was possible to almost pretend that it was all as normal as it looked. It did feel terrific to be out of the hospital. As scary as it was to think about what day to day life on his own was going to be like, he began to feel that he was ready to try it.

Neela said,"They're talking about releasing me tomorrow. It's going to be a while before I'm cleared to go back to work; they still want to do some more assessment, especially speech and motor."

"They aren't too worried, are they? You seem fine."

"It's just—the kind of job—you know. The State Medical Board has some requirements."

"Yeah. Well, I still don't know whether I'll ever be able to finish my ER residency. But I did some reading this afternoon. The social worker pointed me to this online publication for amputees and I read a really good article written by a doctor who is also an amputee. It's about how it affected his practice, in a positive way. It was really an encouraging article. I contacted him by email to see if he'd be willing to answer some of my questions. Anyway, I feel better than I did this afternoon. I am sorry about that. There's a lot going on and I'll admit I get scared sometimes. Still angry, too, sometimes."

"That sounds really normal to me, Ray. You've got a lot to adjust to. Tonight you said they were trying to kick you out. Just what did you mean?"

"Well, they think I'm ready to finish up the rest of the physical therapy as an outpatient. So, I'm going to need to go apartment hunting. They're being understanding about it. I think I'd be getting more pressure if I weren't on staff. Oh, good, I was afraid the band wasn't going to play it. Listen, Neela."

She smiled as she realized that the band was now playing the familiar strains of That's the Way (I Like It). "That's not my favorite, you know."

"Oh, just wait." That's when she realized the band was playing a medley of the greatest hits of KC and The Sunshine Band. She thought about what a lot of trouble Ray had gone to for their date. It did make her sad to realize they wouldn't be doing any dancing. It had been fun the night of Sam's party. She thought about all the time they—mostly she—had wasted. Ray cut in on her thoughts.

"Technically, I'm still employed at County, although I'm on medical leave. But that will be running out. I've been thinking that a roommate might help cut expenses. Know anybody who might be interested?"


End file.
